


Sherlock x Luna One-Shots

by LuLuSilver15



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:00:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25372024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuLuSilver15/pseuds/LuLuSilver15
Summary: A bunch of Sherlock (BBC series) x Luna (OC, based on me) one-shots. Some smut, some fluff, some a mixture.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes x Female Original Character
Kudos: 6





	1. Dancing In A Fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luna gets some time alone and makes the most of it. Inspired by the song mentioned. 
> 
> Enjoy.

I trudged up the stairs, my boots clicking slightly, to the flat I shared in central London with Sherlock Holmes.

Yes, _The_ Sherlock Holmes. The famous detective.

It wasn't as amazing as you might think.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I began removing my coat, calling, "Sherlock?" as I did. I could never be sure if he'd be home or not. It wasn't unusual for him not to be. He was often out working cases.

I walked through the living room of the flat, which was in complete disarray. Papers and books were scattered all over the place, and Sherlock's desk was so covered in stuff, you couldn't see the wood beneath it. The yellow smiley face was still spray painted on the wall above the couch, and I smiled as I remembered the night I'd come home to find Sherlock shooting it with a hand gun because he was bored. In hindsight, it was quite funny, even though at the time it had aggravated me quite a lot. I moved on to check the kitchen. A total mess from all of Sherlock's experiments. I peaked into his bedroom, not expecting to see him but figuring I should check anyway. He wasn't there.

I went back to the living room, calling Sherlock's name one more time, the answering silence confirming that he was out. I smiled to myself. I knew exactly what I was going to do, while I had the chance.

I went to my own bedroom, digging around for a moment before finding what I was looking for. My bluetooth speaker. I was almost expecting not to find it, thinking that maybe Sherlock had hidden it. He was always hiding my things, especially if I had somehow annoyed him.

I brought the speaker out into the living room and connected it to my phone. I looked through my music library, finally settling on shuffling all the music I had by Andrea Bocelli, an Italian artist that I really liked. I set the speaker on the coffee table, laid down on the couch, and closed my eyes, allowing my head to lean back against the arm of the couch and the music to flow around me like water. This music always made me feel calm, sometimes putting me in a bit of a romantic mood.

My thoughts drifted to Sherlock. Even though he was only my flatmate, there was something about him that made my mind go a little fuzzy. The way his face contorted when he was annoyed or angry. His obsession over his cases. How annoying he was when he was bored, although it was also kind of adorable. The way he ruffled his hair with his hands when he was agitated or upset.

I sighed, the music and my thoughts of Sherlock putting me in quite an interesting mood. I began humming along with the words of the music in place of singing, because most of it was in a different language so I couldn't sing to it. There were some bits of certain songs that were in english, and I sang those, in a higher key than Andrea did, since his voice was lower than mine could go.

One of the songs ended, and the next one that came on was one of my favourites. Cuando Me Enamoro. This was one I could sing to, even though it was in Spanish. I had looked up the lyrics and pretty much memorized them. This song always put me in a completely romantic mood. I got up, barely noticing what I was doing, and began dancing, my eyes still closed, imagining I was dancing with Sherlock. I could almost feel his hands on me, one around my waist, one clasped in my own. His voice, deep and alluringly low, sang the words quietly in the back of my mind.

Suddenly, I realized I wasn't just imagining the feeling of his hands on me. I actually was feeling his hands on me. His voice actually was there, close beside my ear, quietly singing the words to the song. My eyes snapped open, and there he was, smiling a soft, warm smile I had never seen before.

"Sherlock- " I began, but he stopped me with a slight shake of his head.

He continued to dance with me, his voice mingling with mine and the artist's, creating a beautiful sound that made me feel very romantic and happy. I hadn't known he could dance, nor had I known he could sing. But I didn't care. It was beautiful, being here with him like this.

The song ended after what felt like an eternity, an eternity in which I'd felt the happiest I had in a long time. Sherlock didn't let go of me right away. He kept me close to him, his arms wrapped around my waist.

"Wha ... when ... when did you get here?" I asked, the disbelief very obvious in my voice.

"Just as you got up and started dancing," he replied, his voice warm and low, reminding me oddly of thick, dark syrup. "You looked so beautiful like that, I just had to join you."

"Where did you learn to dance like that? And sing, in Spanish I might add," I asked, my own voice thickening.

"Just two of the many skills I've picked up in my career," he said, smirking at me. I felt warmth begin to creep up my neck to my cheeks, and his smirk deepened. He could obviously tell. "Someone's a little flustered." He leaned closer, his breath tickling my ear. "Quite the effect I have on you, apparently." The heat on my face intensified.

"I - "

Sherlock cut me off again, but not with words. This time, I was cut off by his lips suddenly pressed to mine, his hands on my face. I was taken by surprise, but soon forgot about it, forgot about everything except him, and the feel of his mouth moving against mine, his hands suddenly gripping my hips. My hands reached up and found their way to his dark curls, tugging lightly. He groaned slightly at this. He pulled away after a moment and stared at me, straight into my eyes, almost as though he could see right into me, into my mind, my heart.

He smirked again and leaned down, his lips hot on my neck, almost certainly making a mark. I tried to keep quiet, but a small moan escaped me.

He picked me up suddenly, forcing me to wrap my legs around his waist, and carried me to his bedroom. In that moment, I knew for certain I was a goner.


	2. Rose Tattoo (Smut)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luna gets a tattoo and doesn't tell Sherlock, who then decides to teach her a lesson.
> 
> Enjoy.

I walked up to the flat, my shoulder still burning slightly. I was coming home from getting a tattoo on my right shoulder blade, of a dark red embellished rose with three green leaves. When I reached the flat, I walked inside, removing my boots, coat and scarf and hanging up the latter two beside Sherlock's. When I walked in I saw Sherlock in his chair, staring at nothing, obviously off in his mind palace. John was in the kitchen making food of some sort. I cleared my throat to get Sherlock's attention. He pulled himself out of his mind and looked over at me, and I pulled nervously at the collar of my sweater, hoping it covered the tattoo sufficiently. I had made sure to not wear a sweater that had an extremely loose collar, so as not to show the tattoo off. The boys didn't even know where I'd gone. All I told them was that I was going out. For some reason, I thought they would think it was silly.

Sherlock got up and walked over to me, wrapping me in a hug. I sighed, leaning into his chest and breathing him in, the scent that smelled like safety, like home. He rested his chin on the top of my head and put a hand on my hair. Whenever he hugged me, it always made me feel safe and small. Nevermind the fact that I was small compared to him, being only 5'4", him being 6'. He kissed the top of my head, then pulled back and said, "Where were you? You never told us where you going, you left before I could ask."

"No where," I said in what I hoped was a convincingly nonchalant voice. "Just went wandering, getting some fresh air. Something you should do more often, by the way." I was hoping to distract him from my possibly guilty red face, though he might just chalk it up to me being out in the cold. I could tell he wasn't fully convinced I was telling the truth though.

John came out of the kitchen and said, "Hey guys, food's ready, come get some."

"Where're we supposed to eat?" I asked, eyeing the table that was covered in Sherlock's various experiments. 

John stared at the table for a moment, then said, "Living room, trays."

I sighed, smiling. It wouldn't be the first time, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. I grabbed a few trays, while John served up some food onto the plates that Mrs. Hudson had given us for Christmas. We ate quietly, Sherlock, as usual, eating little before sitting back and retreating into his mind palace again. John left shortly after finishing, muttering something about spending the night with his girlfriend. When I finished, I sat back on the couch, reading my book, called "Unspoken Sins Of The Second Majesty". It was written by my best friend, Mirajane, who was generous enough to send me a copy when it was published. Since then, it'd become a bestseller, and Mira was currently touring around the world with it. I smiled as I remembered editing for her and helping her with ideas when she was first writing it when we were in high school. The tattoo on my shoulder was meant to be one of the guild crests from the book. Mira had gotten an identical one yesterday while she was in Paris.

When my eyes began to feel heavy and I realized I'd gone over the same passage three times, I decided I should go to bed. I shook Sherlock's shoulder, knowing that if I didn't pull him out of his head, he would never sleep. Thankfully he wasn't working a case at the moment, meaning he was more willing to do things like eat and sleep. He got up and we went to our shared room, him with a protective hand on my lower back because he always did no matter where we were. I began to get undressed, and when I pulled my sweater off, Sherlock asked, "Luna, what's that?"

"What?" I said, not realizing what he meant.

"On your shoulder."

Shit. I'd forgotten about my tattoo.

"Oh, um, nothing important. Just a tattoo... " I trailed off, for some reason scared of his reaction.

Sherlock walked over to me, touching the rose with his fingertips. In spite of myself, I shivered slightly at his touch. "Is that where you were today?" he asked.

"Em, yeah."

He hummed slightly, leaning down and kissing the rose softly. I sighed, tilting my head back and closing my eyes. "It's beautiful, Love."

"Thank you."

"Although," he said with a smirk, standing up, grabbing my hips and pushing against me, "sneaking around, hiding things from me? Maybe you need to be taught a lesson, hm?"

I held in a whine.

"Now now, Love, you know I don't like it when you hold back. I want to hear all those pretty little sounds you make."

Damn, how did he know me so well? I let the small whine escape me, and Sherlock hummed, satisfied. He leaned down and began kissing my neck softly, knowing it drove me crazy. He travelled up slightly and nipped at my ear, groaning as he pushed against me again, pulling my hips back. I felt his erection against my ass, and I moaned softly. He slid a hand across my hip and it came to rest very low on my abdomen, which I knew he did to tease me. It worked.

"I'm going to make you beg for me tonight, Luna," he murmured into my ear. "I'm going to make you scream my name. I'll tease you until you're begging for me to fuck you. And if you're a good girl for me, I will."

I whined again, already wet at the thought of him inside me, pounding into me over and over again. Sherlock smirked and turned me around, pulling me against him as he kissed me slowly. I slipped my arms up around his neck and kissed him back, loving his taste on my tongue. He held me there until we had to come up for air. I pulled away and got down on my knees, wanting to taste him in another way. As I began to undo his belt, he grabbed my wrists. He transfered both wrists to one hand then used the other hand to grab my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

"Uh-uh, my love, not for you just yet. You're going _far_ too fast, and you haven't shown me what a _good girl_ you are."

I whimpered, staring up at Sherlock towering over me. 

"Up, now."

I stood up, and he slowly pulled my tank top off before carefully unhooking my bra and sliding it off my shoulders. He lifted me up and carried me to the bed, laying me down gently before going back to kissing my neck, this time adding his tongue, dragging it slowly and softly over my skin, driving me absolutely out of my mind. 

"Sherlock - " I moaned.

He ignored me, continuing to attack my neck, but in that slow way that he knew drove me insane. He slowly worked his way down to my collarbone, dragging his tongue across it, placing feather light kisses across my chest. He made it down to my breasts, taking them gently in his hand and squeezing, making me gasp. He leaned down and took it in his mouth, dragging his tongue over my nipple before biting softly.

"Sherlock, please," I moaned. I wanted him to touch me so badly, I was so wet.

"Mm, you like that, don't you Darling?" he said, humming. I didn't answer, not having the breath to do so.

He came back up, hovering right over top of me as his hand closed around my neck. "I asked you a question Love. I know you want me to touch you. Answer me and I might." He reached down with his other hand and drew small circles just above the waistband of my underwear with a fingertip.

"Oh!" I moaned, feeling like I was losing my mind. "Yes! Yes I do, I do like it!"

"Mm, good girl."

I felt a jolt of pleasure at that. I loved when he called me a good girl. He let go of my throat, going back down to my chest. He said he would touch me, but if I knew Sherlock, he was going to drag it out as long as he could. He planted slow, careful kisses all the way down my stomach, then just above my underwear, then right over my pussy. He slid his fingers over my pussy, rubbing through my underwear, teasing the hell out of me. My breath was so choppy and shallow it was a wonder I was still breathing at all. Finally, with agonizing slowness, he hooked his fingers in the waistband of my underwear and pulled them off. He rubbed my pussy, still avoiding my clit, still going so fucking slow. Finally, he slowly slid a finger inside me, then another.

_Yes!_

He began slowly thrusting them inside me, not increasing the pace at all, keeping the slow, steady rhythm. Despite the slowness, I felt my orgasm begin to build inside me, helped along when he added his tongue, which flicked slowly over my clit. He brought me to edge, but just before I fell, he pulled away, crawling up and kissing my neck again. I whined, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

"I told you, I'm going to make you beg for it."

"Sherlock, please."

"Hmm, you're going to have to do better than that. Don't worry though, my love, I'll get more out of you soon."

_I just bet you will._

He went down again, planting kisses and bites all along my body before his mouth clamped onto my pussy, causing me to yelp. He started licking my pussy, pushing his tongue inside me, his nose rubbing against my clit, going slightly faster this time.

"Ah-! Sherlock!"

He didn't stop, now flicking his tongue over my clit while his fingers thrusted inside me again. But, once again, just when I hit the edge he pulled away, not letting me come.

"Sherlock," I said weakly. " _Please for the love of god, let me come. I need you, please_."

"Mmmm," he groaned, turned on by my begging. "First, get down on your knees beside the bed, and show me how much you want it."

I scrambled off the bed and got down on my knees, quickly undoing his belt. I slid his trousers and boxers down and he stepped out of them. He was already very hard. I grabbed his cock, stroking him a few times before I took him in my mouth, sucking him slowly. He groaned, grabbing my hair and pulling, making me moan. I took him all the way down, relaxing my throat to take him as far as possible. I swallowed and sucked a few times then came back up, taking a quick breath before diving back down, again taking him down into my throat, helped along by Sherlock, who pushed my head further down. I bobbed my head up and down, running my tongue over his cock, loving his taste on my tongue. He pulled me back and pushed my chin up, making me look at him. His eyes softened slightly, and he grabbed my hands and pulled me up, kissing me gently. I loved when he did this. When he went back and forth from dominant to gentle. He leaned down to my neck again, pushing me back down to the bed, travelling down my body and softly licking my clit.

"Oh-! Yes, Sherlock!"

My hands found his hair and I tugged at his curls, causing him to groan, sending vibrations into my pussy and all through my body, and I whined. I pushed my hips forward, trying to get more friction where I needed it so badly. He thrust his tongue inside me, rubbing my clit, this time letting my orgasm build. He flicked his tongue over my clit once, then bit me gently and I toppled over the edge, almost screaming as I came, bucking my hips as he kept flicking his tongue and thrusting his fingers inside me, riding out my orgasm. He pulled away only when I began to whine, becoming oversensitive. He crawled up and kissed me gently, running a hand through my hair. I looked up at him and realized he still had his shirt on. I reached up and unbuttoned it, pulling it off him and throwing it on the floor. He kissed me one more time before reaching down and rubbing my pussy again, causing me to buck my hips and whine. He smirked and hummed, spreading my legs and settling himself between them. He guided himself to my entrance but only slid the tip in. He looked down at me, that dominant spark returning to his eyes. He reached down and grabbed my hair, pulling my head back. I whined, wanting him inside me, to fill me.

"I know what you want," he said, using that soft, stern voice that made me melt. "You want me to fuck you, isn't that right Darling?"

"Yes," I said softly, not able to be louder.

"Then beg for it," he said, tugging my head back even further.

"Please, Sherlock."

"Now, you know you have to do better than that."

"Sherlock, _please. Please, fuck me._ "

He leaned down until his mouth was right beside my ear, his breath hot against my skin. "Tell me what you want," he murmured in that soft, seductive voice that turned me to mush.

"I want you to fuck me like the slut I am, please, I want your cock so badly, Sherlock."

" _Yes_ , my little slut, aren't you?"

" _Yes!_ "

With that, he let go of my hair and grabbed my wrists, then thrust all the way into me. My back arched and I moaned loudly, loving the feeling of him filling me completely. He held there for a moment, allowing me to adjust to his length. He looked into my eyes, his own soft and seductive. He held my wrists and leaned down, kissing my neck as he began slowly thrusting his hips. 

"Sherlock! Oh my god Sherlock!"

"Yes my love, take my cock, take it like the slut you are," he moaned, thrusting faster, holding my wrists with one hand and pulling my hair with the other. 

"Yes! Yes, oh my god yes! Fuck!"

He pulled out suddenly and flipped me over so that I was on my hands and knees. "I want to see that pretty tattoo of yours," he said, entering me again. As he began moving again he leaned down and bit my shoulder, right on my tattoo. I yelled, gripping the sheets beneath me for dear life as he pulled my hair with one hand and reached around with the other, rubbing my clit.

"Oh my fucking god, Sherlock, yes, I'm gonna come!"

"Yes, that's right, Love," he moaned. "Come all over my cock like a good girl."

He slapped my clit and I toppled over the edge, screaming his name as I came hard. He kept going, thrusting fast and hard inside me, pushing me into euphoria as I screamed again.

"What a good girl you are, coming all over my cock for me," he groaned, grabbing my hair and pulling my hair back. "Oh, you're so tight, you're gonna make me come, Love."

I moaned, getting flustered like I always did he talked like this.

"Oh, I felt that, you clenched," he purred. "You like when I come inside you, don't you little slut."

"Yes yes yes, oh god!"

"Good girl, yes, I'm gonna come." He leaned down and bit my tattoo again as he came inside me, thrusting inside me one more time. I grabbed the sheets, yelling as I felt him come. "That's right," he moaned. "Take it, take it all like the bitch in heat you are."

He pulled out and I slumped down, breathing heavily. "Hmm, why don't I clean you up," he said, slowly flipping me over. He went down on me again and licked up the cum from my pussy, pushing me into a third orgasm. He finished cleaning me up and came back up, holding me in his arms and kissing the top of my head. 

"Such a good girl, aren't you Darling?"

I nodded, already falling asleep against his chest.

"I love you, Luna," he said, running his hand through my hair.

"I love you too," I mumbled, dropping off to sleep.


End file.
